


Robots Need Hugs Too

by Glinda



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Artificial Intelligence, Feelings, Gen, Identity Issues, Season/Series 03, post Securite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-01 23:09:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6540385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glinda/pseuds/Glinda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maxwell knows that Hera cannot possibly feel it when her crew touch the ship, but that doesn't stop Minkowski or Eiffel patting terminals or walls as though it would comfort her. Or stop it, apparently, comforting Hera herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Robots Need Hugs Too

**Author's Note:**

> Microsff posted one of their [tweet stories](http://microsff.tumblr.com/post/142624670335/tweetstory) on Sunday night and my brain went 'oooh AI feels'. Specifically Hera feels. And now that I've finished writing this, I can actually go listen to Controlled Demolition which came out half-way through writing this and will undoubtedly have jossed this. *worries about Hera*

Alana Maxwell is not a particularly tactile person. She does however; understand the usefulness of touch as a way to manipulate people. Therefore, whenever she touches someone in a work context it is with a specific purpose, carefully pre-meditated. (Keppler and Jacobi are both tactile people, their friendship and professional working relationship cemented with a shared love of brutal violence and easy jovial physicality – arms slung around shoulders, firm claps on the back and the occasional noogie. They never touch her unnecessarily – they respect her boundaries and never give her occasion to feel that she needs to use touch to manipulate them.) She has always been a keen observer of human nature, how others use touch to communicate is endlessly fascinating to her and she stores away new tricks to add to her arsenal. 

The crew of the Hephaestus are not particularly fascinating in this area on the surface. But scratch the surface and there’s just something that she can’t quite put her finger on. 

Dr Hilbert doesn’t touch anyone. He avoids physical contact of all kinds whenever possible. No man is an island, but Hilbert seems determined to make himself as much of one as possible. Unless he’s actually carrying out medical treatment he doesn’t seem to as much as brush against the rest of the crew when passing in narrow spaces. Even then he always wears gloves. He isolates himself from the rest of the crew just as they have rejected him. Maxwell categorises him and puts her observations of him on the back burner until she can establish if he’s actually touch-adverse or if its part of the persona he’s build for this mission and therefore actually touch starved. 

Captain Lovelace doesn’t really touch anyone either. That definitely isn’t her nature. Maxwell recalls from the files that Lovelace was a notorious prankster. Highly competent, but with an irreverent and warm streak a mile wild. Her experiences have caused her to pull into herself and away from anyone else. Unlike Hilbert, Lovelace doesn’t shy away from casual touch though. She moves through Minkowski and Eiffel’s personal space easily; throwing out a hand to steady or assist her crewmates whenever required. Her body language around Minkowski when they are both working on the same task is easy and confident, they move round each other – and allow each other to physically move them – with the ease of soldiers who have worked together for a long time and established a knowledge and comfort around their own and each other’s capabilities. When they aren’t paying attention their bodies recognise each other as competent and forget not to trust each other. 

Lieutenant Minkowski is not by nature a particularly tactile person but has learned to use touch as a communication tool. Working in close circumstances with both Lovelace and Eiffel has lead her to develop an ease and comfort in their physical presence that allows the three of them move around each other with ease when they’re working on a shared goal. She doesn’t often initiate physical contact and when she does it is often stilted and awkward. This maps with the picture of Minkowski that Maxwell had drawn from reading the crew files. What doesn’t map, is that those attempts are getting less and less awkward over a surprisingly short period of time. Or at least they are with Eiffel. Over the few weeks that Maxwell has been on the Hephaestus there has been a marked change in their interactions. Minkowski will still poke Eiffel awkwardly when he’s being difficult or melancholic, but her awkward arm pats have become more confident and – presumably – more actually comforting to her colleague. 

Officer Eiffel on the other hand is a very tactile person. He also spent a considerable time on his own in isolation so complete he started hallucinating his crewmates for company. He is utterly touch starved. To the point that he is clearly rationing himself, watching that he doesn’t touch other people too much. He leans into Minkowski’s awkward attempts at friendly contact, will drift seemingly absently into Lovelace’s trajectory of movement so that she will bump into him as she passes or have to physically move him out of the way. After they had first rescued him, he would bump into Keppler, Jacobi and herself in much the same way. Maxwell had even experimented with encouraging the contact and had spent a fascinating hour listening to him wax lyrical about the Hephaestus’ AI system while he leaned companionably against her shoulder. She’s not quite sure what she said to make him pull into himself again after that, but should it be required she’s sure she can re-establish that connection. He feels his emotions so fully and openly, she understands now that he needs careful handling in this. 

An anomaly has been discovered too. 

Eiffel and Minkowski touch Hera too. Not physically, in terms of her circuits – though they have previously in terms of repairs – but they touch the ship as though they were interacting with another crewmate. She has caught them both mid-conversation with Hera, reaching out a hand to pat a bulkhead in a way that would be comforting or reassuring to another human being. As Maxwell digs around in Hera’s camera feeds, she catches glimpses of Minkowski trailing her fingers along a corridor wall as she teases Hera about something, accompanied by Hera’s embarrassed laughter. She stops in her tracks to watch Eiffel boost off the ground to bring himself level with one of Hera’s cameras, hands cupping the lens gently as he cleans it, the AI’s projected voice going soft and fond as she responds to him. 

Once Maxwell even spots Lovelace lean her head against a bulkhead on a feed. Listens in on Hera’s practical and unsentimental commentary on the situation and watches as a wry smile crosses the Captain’s face and against the odds she appears comforted. Maxwell finds in turn a reaction in Hera’s circuits, something that appears strangely close to ‘satisfaction’. 

That of course is the most anomalous aspect of the whole thing. 

Hera appears comforted by it in turn. Maxwell knows that Hera experiences something akin to sensation in the way electricity moves through her circuits and systems. That a short circuit can produce a reaction vaguely analogous with pain. There is no equivalent of pleasure or comfort in her programming. Satisfaction in a job well done is understandable, even natural, but for that to have evolved into pleasure. The crew’s continued well being is a primary protocol, but for Hera’s response to success in this area to evolve from satisfaction to pleasure and happiness; that’s both fascinating and a little concerning. Some androids have ‘learned’ from humans they work alongside to pat their human co-workers reassuringly, to respond in turn to congratulatory clap on the shoulder as they would to a verbal statement of ‘well done’. But being ‘comforted’ by physical contact where no heat or pressure sensors exist is…well its an undocumented phenomena. One that normally she would put down to humans projecting onto their AI system. But to see it play out in the code in front of her is something else. 

She comes across Eiffel conducting repairs - under Hera’s careful instruction - in Engineering. Sparks visibly arc across the panel causing both of them to exclaim aloud in distress. (Maxwell knows that Keppler and Jacobi have made a great deal of progress on instituting the necessary repairs to the station, but she still sometimes opens a panel and finds utter carnage or vital systems held together with actual tape and string. It always gives her pause to wonder how they haven’t fallen into the star yet.) 

“Why do you do that?” She asks, honestly curious, “you and Minkowski both touch the ship as though Hera can feel it when you do. Here I can understand, there are a whole plethora of sensors in that panel so I suppose fundamentally she can feel the contact there, though I wouldn’t imagine it’s a pleasant sensation. But you both touch her repeatedly in places where she cannot possibly feel the sensation. The station doesn’t have the necessary heat and pressure sensors to provide the necessary feedback.”

Eiffel stares at her, wide-eyed, for a long minute before shaking his head and responding.

“Look, I’ll be honest with you Maxwell, I don’t actually care if Hera can’t feel it when I touch her. If I reach out a hand to comfort her and she understands my intent to provide comfort and is therefore comforted? What the hell does it matter if it’s not some quantifiable measure of ‘real’? Besides if the alternative is true I’d frankly rather not know.”

“What do you mean by that?” Maxwell asks.

Eiffel sighs deeply before replying. “You accept that Hera feels pain, yes? The alternative is that the people, who programmed her, built her with the capacity to feel pain, but not the capacity to feel comfort or pleasure. What kind of sick bastard gives someone the ability to feel only pain? Makes repairs hurt. No one with that person’s best interests at heart. And if I believed that was true how could I even look at, let alone work alongside someone who contributed to that?” He stops there. Not meeting Maxwell’s eyes. Fists clenching tightly.

“Eiffel…” Hera begins, cutting herself off before she can continue. Her tone oddly helpless. 

“Sorry, darling, I’m fundamentally terribly selfish, I don’t want to know. If it’s a lie…” he trails off. 

“If it’s a lie,” Hera responds more firmly, “then it’s a shared delusion. There are a lot of things I wasn’t programmed to feel that I feel all the same. I’m always watching and always listening, even when I don’t respond I always…appreciate the gesture. Maybe you’re right Maxwell; maybe the difference in how I feel contact to my cables is merely my interpretation. Perhaps what I consider pain and pleasure don’t translate to the sensations that your fleshy meatbags experience, but that doesn’t make them any less real to me. The way I understand there’s more to a hug than the physical sensations anyway.”

“Hera, you can’t possibly feel it when they touch the ship,” Maxwell reiterates, feeling like the conversation is spinning out of her control.

“Been a long time since someone you wanted to hug you hugged you hasn’t it, Maxwell,” comments Hera disdainfully from above. 

. . . - - - . - . . - . - . - - . . . - - - . - . . - . - . - - . . . - - - . - . . - . - . - - . . . - - - . - . . - . - . - -

Days later, Maxwell is working on a piece of code when Hera glitches out on her. Glancing back at her previous work, she notices an error, a small but vital error, sloppy work on her part. She should have double-checked it before she committed it to Hera’s processors. 

“Sorry about that, Hera,” she murmurs absently, internally cursing herself for failing to meet her own exacting standards. 

It’s not until she hears Hera’s quiet laughter that she thinks about what she just said. Maxwell can’t be certain but she doesn’t think she’s ever apologised to an A.I before. Not with any real intent or expectation that they would really understand contrition or apologies as anything other than an abstract concept.

Hera doesn’t mention that the rhythm Maxwell had been absently tapping with one finger on the terminal was Morse code. One word repeating over and over again.


End file.
